


Just North of Oxford

by silveryink



Series: Tales of Tomorrow [2]
Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, HDM Spoilers, Lee has Dad Feelings, Past Character Death, The Amber Spyglass Spoilers, The Book of Dust Spoilers, What else is new
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2020-12-16 05:38:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21031133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveryink/pseuds/silveryink
Summary: Short moments where Lee is the dad Lyra needs (and deserves)





	1. I See Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [his-dark-memerials](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=his-dark-memerials).

> For [his-dark-memerials](https://his-dark-memerials.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr  
Chapter titles taken from various songs, with no relation to the content.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during Northern Lights; Lee and Lyra talk about the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q01VcTy-XGs) in the Mean Girls Broadway Musical

“Mr. Scoresby,” Lyra said, “What do you know about the stars?”

Lee could tell that she was somewhat drowsy, though he didn’t take his eyes off the trail which had just meandered into a steep curve which was rather tricky to navigate. “Quite a bit,” he said vaguely. “You pick up a lot about the sky when you fly about in a balloon.”

“I thought so,” she said, sounding more awake and eager. “D’you know what stars are above us now? And them constellations?”

Lee chuckled. Lyra’s curiosity seemed endless – she’d asked him about a hundred different questions throughout their journey into the North. He’d answered them as best as he could that she would understand, respecting the need to know more that existed, as far as he knew, in every child (but more so in Lyra, who was one of the most persistent individuals he’d met).

He lifted his gaze to the sky and pointed to the star he best knew. “See that one there?”

She cocked her head a bit. “That big, bright one?”

“Yup. It’s called the North Star, and people use it to guide them on their path.” He turned fully to face Lyra – well, as best as he could on the sled. “They tend to rely on compasses and suchlike now. It’s easier to navigate that way.”

“Do you use them?”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ve a few of ‘em in the basket now, I’ll show ya later. Makes it a whole lot simpler to fly. Sometimes, though, I’ll find myself looking at the star – an instinct, I guess.”

“I ‘ent looked at the star before, at Jordan,” Lyra muttered, and Lee snorted.

“Nah, it’s an explorer’s intuition. You wouldn’t’ve needed to, before.”

Lyra settled against the sled with a nod, apparently satisfied with the explanation. Her dæmon curled up in her hood, ermine-shaped. Lee grinned and turned back, slipping into an easy explanation of the constellation Ursa Minor of which the star was a part, with a few stories he’d heard from various local communities he’d visited about it, when a warm weight settled onto his shoulder.

He knew without looking that it was Lyra, who had finally fallen asleep – on him, it seemed. He let go of the reins in his free hand, and, trying not disturb her, pulled her furs around her more securely, being even more cautious not to touch the sleeping dæmon as he tugged the hood of her coat forward so that Lyra would not feel cold.

“Sleep tight, Lyra,” he said, picking up the reins again. “We’ve got a long ways to go yet.”


	2. Meant to Be Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set **after** The Amber Spyglass; the fate of the alethiometer is discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hD7x_7tUFNI) in the Heathers Broadway Musical (no relation)
> 
> WARNING FOR MAJOR SPOILERS for the Amber Spyglass, and the final season of the TV series

Lee sat, hunched, against the railing of the gyptians’ boat. Hester was curled up inside his coat, and neither of them were willing to let go of each other despite their uncomfortable position. After their separation, and his… resurrection? He had no clue how he was even here, but he was sure that he never wanted to let Hester out of his line of sight again, a sentiment she heartily shared with him.

A few moments later, he saw Lyra slump down next to him. She looked a little lost, and was clutching Pantalaimon – now pine-marten shaped – much the same way he held Hester. He belatedly remembered that she too had had to separate from her dæmon to enter the land of the dead. Before he second-guessed his choice, he lifted his hand to rest it on her shoulder in silent comfort. The young girl, however, seemed to have a different opinion and curled into his side. He automatically stretched out his arm into a one-handed embrace.

They sat in silence for a while, and Lee could hear the faint hum of the engines of the boat. Pan was curled up in Lyra’s lap, and she ran a hand through his fur distractedly. She looked deep in thought.

“Mr. Scoresby, d’you think I should return the alethiometer to Jordan?”

Lee was so thrown off by the question that all he could manage was, “What do you mean, _return_?”

She stiffened and looked up at him, eyes widening. “I didn’t steal it,” she said hastily, though that wasn’t what he’d meant at all – while he knew she was more than capable of it, he hadn’t suspected her of stealing the device.

“The Master of the college – he gave it to me, before I went with my mother. But that was before I knew she was my mother, see. It’s all very strange.” That last part was uttered almost to herself.

Lee hadn’t originally known how the instrument had fallen into her hands, and he didn’t want to upset Lyra by asking her about why she’d left. This explanation, while not answering all the questions he had, certainly explained a lot. Mrs. Coulter, he’d heard, was – had been? – an influential lady (though the one time he’d seen her in person he’d felt the urge to run as far away from her golden monkey dæmon as possible), and more than one impressionable child had been lost to her charms. He felt a vicious satisfaction at having destroyed her site at Bolvangar. It was something he’d felt several times since.

“I don’t know much about the alethiometer, but I heard tell that there were only a few of them, and that they’re stored across the world now.”

Lyra nodded. “There are only six, the Master told me. He also said that the sixth one – this one – was lost, and the other five are with different colleges.”

“That settles it, then,” Lee said. “I’d bet this was supposed to be yours, and some old prophecy predicted it.” A beat. “You know that the witches had a prophecy about you?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Dunno what it was, though. Didn’t try to find out.”

Lee hummed. Hester twitched her ear. He rubbed his thumb across her back, half in thought. “Did the Master say anything about returning it?”

“Not as such,” Lyra said slowly. “Just that I had to keep it safe.”

“Then that’s what you should do,” Lee said with a shrug. “Keep it, and study it. Perhaps one day you’ll be able to read it again like you used to.”

She nodded decisively. “I’ll do that. I kept it safe from _her_, I can make sure it’s safe from anyone else.”

Lee smiled and settled against the railing once more, feeling more relaxed than he’d been at the start of their journey back to Oxford. His eyes slipped shut, and he drifted into a peaceful sleep, secure in the knowledge that they would all be safe, that they would be absolutely fine now that the worst was behind them.


	3. What Comes Next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after Meant to Be Yours, Lee contemplates what to do next. In the end, it's Lyra who decides it for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKw6n0PnTMY) in the Hamilton Broadway Musical
> 
> SPOILER WARNING for The Amber Spyglass, final season of the series

Three days since Lee’s apparent resurrection, the gyptian leader Lord Faa told him that they’d be at Oxford that evening. Cool relief pooled in Lee’s stomach, while a spark of dread that had been threatening to blaze up into a roaring flame flickered into something more muted, but present nonetheless, and unable to ignore. As the end of the journey was near, Lee wondered what he was to do now. He had the money he’d earned for his services at Bolvangar, and compensation besides for his death (though he’d refused that at first).

He had no balloon, no friends in Oxford to help him start a life there. It would be infinitely difficult to find a way back to Texas, and even if he went back, what would he do there? He’d become an aeronaut solely because he preferred the thrill of flight and appreciated the somewhat isolated life it gave, despite all the short friendships he’d formed when he saw fit to return to the ground for a while. His hand went to the Navajo ring, which was tied to a cord around his neck (too small to wear on his hand now, unfortunately), a new subconscious gesture of comfort.

Lyra joined him belowdecks that afternoon, startling him out of his melancholy musings.

“Miss Silvertongue,” he said in response to her customary greeting, with an easiness he didn’t feel.

She appeared not to notice his mood, which he wasn’t about to bring up anyway, and she was fidgeting with the hem of her tartan skirt. She sat across from him on the small makeshift bench by his sleeping bag. Pantalaimon was, presumably, roaming the ship or talking with Hester on the deck (his death had had the curious effect of being able to separate from Hester without the usual ache it would cause, matching Lyra’s own newly-gained ability).

He sat forward, crossing his legs, shoving aside his own anxiety about the future in store for him. Lyra needed him now, for whatever caused her to be so deep in thought, so he would be there for her.

“I was thinking,” she said hesitantly, “When we reach Oxford, I’ll have to go back to Jordan.”

Lee wondered what this was to lead to, and it hit him like a stack of bricks, or a rogue _panserbjørn__._ Lyra had had friends and family, among the servants of Jordan and the kids around Oxford. She’d told him about her adventures while travelling North several times. He had been so caught up in his own fears that he hadn’t considered that Lyra might not want to return to the place that would remind her of all she’d lost.

And what she’d lost was no small deal either – her best friend Roger had just become a swirling mass of atoms and Dust; her father who’d been a distant uncle to her was now missing along with her mother, who’d been a temporary guardian and mentor to her; Will Parry and Lee himself. While he had somehow been returned to the world of the living, Lyra had had to cope with the loss somehow. Leaving her at Jordan with no real connection to what had traversed across worlds, he knew, would only mean abandoning her further.

He’d told the witch clans that he intended to be the parent Lyra deserved, and, well, here was a brilliant opportunity to stick to that promise. It was an incredibly easy choice to make, and he didn’t hesitate one bit.

“Ya know,” he began somewhat awkwardly, “I don’t really have anyplace to go. The balloon’s gone, and I haven’t a clue what to do. So, what do you say I pick out a nice place in Oxford to stay?”

Lyra’s eyes widened, hope in every bit of her gaze.

“If you’d like, you could stay with me. As my ward.”

“Or a foster daughter,” Lyra suggested, and Lee was so surprised that he choked on his next reply.

Honestly, he should have expected that this bright young girl would be a step ahead of him already. “Or a foster daughter,” he agreed. “If that’s what you want.”

She nodded, resolute. “It is.”

Well, when she settled their fates so pleasantly with those two words, who was he to say no?


	4. Lyra's Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years later, Lyra and Pan think about all that Lee's done (for them, for Dust, for the world).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zONnnto3utI) in the Hamilton musical (It's really called 'Tomorrow There'll Be More of Us', but I think most of the fandom calls it Laurens' Interlude)
> 
> SPOILER WARNING for The Amber Spyglass, the TV series.

Lyra kicked the door open, hooking her foot around the edge to keep it from slamming into the wall. She carefully entered the small house that was now her home, nudging the door shut again with her toe. She set her armful of books heavily on the desk, only just spotting Lee asleep at the small couch in time to not drop the stack and wake him up. Hester was curled next to him as well, and they seemed to be peaceful enough, unlike the few times he’d woken up alarmed and confused after Seeing something. Hester, Lyra knew, had tried a few times to cure Lee of it, but it didn’t seem to stick. Still, it only happened very rarely, so there was no reason for alarm.

Pan hopped onto the table, using the unoccupied chair as a step in between. “I’m worried about them,” he said softly. Lyra brushed aside her hair with a sigh. “This is the first time they’ve slept in three days. Not counting the ten-minute naps they took.”

“Yeah. It’s nearly end of the semester, though,” she pointed out, though she agreed that it was more than a little unhealthy. “Then he’s got a month free, off that job.”

“True, but you can’t expect someone to be fuelled only by coffee,” Pan said, which was rather unfair to Lyra since it was entirely possible to run only on coffee and spite.

Lee had decided to use his experience with aeronautics to get enough qualifications to become a pilot, which was still rare a enough and valued profession that Lyra supported the idea enthusiastically. She knew that her foster father longed to get into the sky again, and while it might not compare to his old balloon, he’d take any sort of flying he’d get.

“Calm down, gal,” he’d laughed after almost getting his ear talked off about how amazing it would be to fly again, “It’s nothing fancy, I’ll probably just ferry cargo across the Channel.”

“You could take me on another trip to the North, to Svalbard even!”

Lee snickered. “Sure, just to see Iorek’s face when he finds out I’m actually alive.”

He’d also told her that he planned for it to coincide for her starting her studies at university (which she’d told him she wanted a couple of months ago) so that she wouldn’t notice his absence much. Lyra had found this profoundly considerate of him, especially since he wasn’t entirely fond of being on the land. He was sort of like a witch, she told Pan one day, in that he belonged to the sky.

“And he can separate from Hester.”

This was a far less-known fact than accounts of Lee’s involvement in the Tunguska Campaign (which was already somewhat obscure) and, more recently, the War that had made their way to Brytain. The War, of course, needed no name – those who had been part of it somehow simply called it that, clearly emphasizing the capital letter.

The fact that daemons could separate was not something that one could simply share with others, despite witches being capable of the same. Lyra wasn’t quite so sure what to do with this knowledge except maybe ask the alethiometer about it once she learned how to read it again. Right now, she was perfectly happy to focus on her newly resumed education at Jordan, while helping Lee out with either his work or borrowing books from the college library when he needed them.

Well, borrowed was a bit of a loose term. She couldn’t always find the person in charge, but she didn’t see any problems with it so long as she returned the books to their rightful places, in good condition (which Lee assured they were). It wasn’t like Lee needed to know, either.

She carefully moved to sit at the windowsill, against the overstuffed pillow which had been leaned against so much that it resembled a normal pillow now.

“It’s getting late,” Pan murmured, curling up on her lap. “He’ll want to drink coffee and study some more.”

Lyra shook her head. It was a Friday, and Lee needed the rest. “Let him sleep,” she murmured, closing her eyes and stroking Pan’s fur with her the pad of her thumb. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”


	5. Know Who You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exit, pursued by a(n armoured) bear (when he finds out you're not actually dead)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EboJrjl_ELI) in the Moana soundtrack

This certainly wasn’t the first time Lee had flown to the North. This was also, strangely enough, not the first time he’d flown to the North with Lyra on a mission regarding Bolvangar. When Lee had received orders from an organization that he’d discovered by accident that had welcomed him with open arms (named Oakley Street) to return to the North to find and take care of the remains of the Bolvangar site as he saw fit, he hadn’t hesitated for a minute before accepting.

His only condition had been to ask whether Lyra could accompany him, to which his contact, Dame Hannah Relf, had shrugged and agreed so long as it was not dangerous.

Lyra, sixteen years old and still eager to revisit the North, had practically leapt off the old couch in her joy at the news. She had been with him when he’d discovered Oakley Street, and Dr. Relf had wholeheartedly accepted them into their ranks with only a little hesitation due to Lyra’s age. Lee had ensured her that she would only observe and relate what seemed suspicious until she graduated from college. His daughter, ever ready to accept a deal that went her way, did so with next to no complaints.

Although he’d had to deal with her sulking on their way home at having to wait for another six years before she could really do anything. He’d left her to her thoughts, enjoying the scenery that he never quite got used to. Oxford was a strange place to someone who’d spent most of his life in America, and in a balloon. He tried to remember the anecdotes Lyra had shared with him about her antics as a feral child in Jordan College. Eventually, she’d stopped trudging a step behind him and joined him.

Lee called into the headset, “We’ll be there in ten,” and, after a crackle of static, heard Lyra’s cheeky reply.

“At least this time I haven’t fallen off because of cliff-ghasts.” She clutched Pan to her chest, already bundled up sensibly in her large jacket, which had originally been far too large for her, at least until Ma Costa had had it resized to fit her. All Lee had to do to get it to fit her now was let out the seams. He’d brought out his old coat for this occasion, with a pocket ready for Hester to hop into when she wished. Right now, she was on the small seat next to him.

Lee intended to make the most out of this trip and visit Iorek while he was at this mission. Give the old bear a good fright, he thought. Truth be told, he was a bit excited to see his friend after nearly half a decade.

“D’you think we could stop at Trollesund?” Lyra asked over another burst of static.

Lee didn’t look back. “I think it’s more than enough to give Iorek a heart attack. If bears can have them. I’ve never heard of a bear that had a heart attack.”

Lyra ignored this. “Or Serafina Pekkala. I’d like to see her, actually.”

“I dunno, Lyra,” Lee said with a frown, “Depends on where she’d be. She _is_ the queen of her clan.”

Lee expertly shifted the craft into its landing gear and touched own with barely a bump. Unbuckling himself from the front, he stood to face Lyra. She was already halfway out the door, and he chuckled. The air outside the craft was bitter cold and stung his face until he pulled his hat low over it. He breathed in the cool, pure wind. He’d missed this, as much as he liked his life in Oxford.

Of course, his new job meant he could fly anytime, but he had already set plans and wasn’t about to change them unless absolutely necessary.

Lyra was hopping on one foot, then another. “Where do we go from here?” she asked him, her hood drawn low and completely covering her messy curls.

“That way,” Lee nodded in the direction of Svalbard. As his daughter took off, he shook his head and thought just how interesting of a trip this could be. He imagined Iorek’s expression at seeing that Lee was no more a dæmon-less ghost or carcass on the ground, but living and breathing.

He chuckled and looked at Hester, who immediately understood his intention. She bounded after Lyra, and Lee sprinted after her, feeling lighter than he had since his resurrection.


	6. The General Oblation Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father and daughter take a step into the past and visit the remains of Bolvangar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the HDM series soundtrack ([link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=STAtiyhiJWM&list=PLDisKgcnAC4RjxfS0pgJ9wYLVe-Vh-4jZ&index=6)) by Lorne Balfe (I'd advise everyone to check it out, it's simply beautiful)

Lyra stepped over a bit of rubble. They were at what had been the Bolvangar site, which Lee had asked her to accompany him into its remains. Lyra had only a few misgivings with returning to that horrid place, but she was confident enough that it was no more than a pile of wreckage after the gyptians’ assault and its subsequent abandonment. She bit her lip, this was exactly what she’d expected but still found herself anxious about what they’d find there.

A few paces ahead of her, Lee had his small anbaric torch out lighting the way ahead of them. She hadn’t been down this corridor – she supposed this had been a corridor and not a large hall – and had not resisted his suggestion of taking lead. Despite Mrs. Coulter’s call of desertion, Lee knew from experience that it was better to be safe than regret not being cautious later. A pair of large, imposing doors soon loomed over the pair.

Lee, ever the pragmatist, only took a moment examining the state of the lock before kicking them open with a single, powerful shove (had this been any other place and not Bolvangar, Lee might have joked about the time he’d booted someone into a river). The rusted metal shrieked and Hester, right beside him, brought her ears flat against her back with a twitching motion. Though the sound was a bit muffled by the material of his hat pulled low over his ears, he recoiled from the harsh screech.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lyra shiver and reach for her own light, a replica of his own. He swept the bright beam of light across the room, curious about what he would find. He stepped inside the doorway, looking up when the light reflected off of… something. His eyes widened, the guillotine hanging from its frame was _huge_. He wondered what on Earth they’d need it for.

Behind him, Lyra made a strangled sort of noise. He half-turned to see her standing rigidly, clutching Pan to her chest in a way that surely must have been painful. They didn’t seem to care, though, simply staring up blankly at the blade with something akin to fear. Lee didn’t like seeing that look, it reminded him of the terror on the faces of war veterans he’d met at various bars during his travels. Jumping a degree further, one could say that it reminded him of the Tunguska Campaign, and more recently the War. All at once, he was struck by her youth and how someone her age – at the time of the War, and even now – shouldn’t have had to deal with all that they had, that _she_ had.

Lee lowered his light to either side of the room, which each held large cages with mesh openings to see what was inside. Lee wasn’t entirely sure what the cages were for, and was puzzled by the absence of the usual set-up of a guillotine blade except the frame to slide down, but that didn’t stop the sliver of dread entering his heart. He hated to bring up bad memories, but the only way to know more was to ask Lyra, who evidently knew this… contraption, and was terrified of it.

Her answer, a single word, turned that sliver into a dagger of horror that twisted in his heart – “Intercision.”

The implications sent him reeling – had she and Pan been in those cages, had to witness someone else suffer as part of their soul was ripped from them to become a mindless pet? He’d seen the young boy she’d brought back with Iorek from the village, and hadn’t thought he’d encounter anything worse (he’d been so wrong). Lee looked at the machine with new eyes. A single thought kept looping over, _had Lyra and Pan been under the blade_?

He shuddered, looking back up at the guillotine, and decided that unless she told him of her own accord, he _really_ didn't want to know. Hester, sensing his distress, nudged his foot lightly. He bent and scooped her into his arms, turning to his daughter. “Lyra?” he asked softly, patiently waiting for her to reply in her own time.

It took a few seconds, but the glazed fear receded and she met his concerned gaze. “Yeah?”

“I think we should ask Oakley Street to destroy this, do you agree?”

Her eyes widened. “I haven’t – I don’t-” she sighed, and Pan took over for her.

“We don’t know, but it’s probably for the best.”

“Okay.” Lee rested a hand on his daughter’s shoulder gently, waiting for a response. She leaned into the touch. “We should go back, I don’t think there’s anything else here. And quite frankly, I’m not sure I want to stay here any longer.”

“Neither do we,” Lyra said. Her voice was steady. Lee smiled and removed his hand. Lyra stepped over the pile of rubble at the door, and they silently made their way back to the sled that would take them to Svalbard.


	7. Watch What Happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prelude to the next episode, or, Lee gets to know more about the girl who managed to convince an armoured bear to join their cause

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the Newsies soundtrack

“And me and Roger, we’d have wars with the other college kids,” Lyra added excitedly. Lee grinned, he hadn’t initially been sure about her but he’d been impressed with the way she’d handled the situation with Iorek at Trollesund.

Right now, she was in the middle of an expressive retelling about how the college kids had a friendly sort of rivalry that they put aside to fight the ‘townies’ – unless, of course, they’d all formed an unlikely alliance to fight the brick-burners by the Claybeds. Lee had to admit, it was unlike anything he remembered from his own childhood in Texas.

“Or we’d fight the gyptians,” she said, and trailed off for a moment as though remembering who they were with. She shrugged and continued, “I nearly sunk their boat once. See, I would have done it during the raid, but I couldn’t find the bung.”

Now, Lee was no sailor, but he was fairly certain he’d never heard of… “A _bung_?”

“Yeah! All them boats, they’ve got a bung that you can pull to make them sink.”

From her tone, he could tell that she firmly believed in this bung. He was almost sure that there was no such thing, but he wasn’t going to break it to her. Not when there were other gyptians who would gladly talk her ear off on how the boats were built.

“Mr. Scoresby?”

“Hmm?”

“You said earlier… a bear’s armour is his soul. How do you _make_ your own soul? It en’t possible for a human…”

Lee shrugged. “Honestly, that’s something only Iorek knows. But, taking it away from him would be like taking away Hester from me and replacing her with a doll full of sawdust.”

Lyra winced. Lee nodded sympathetically, he’d had the same reaction to the comparison that Iorek had made when they’d first met, when Lee had asked about his armour. He finished piling up the firewood and started to try and light a fire. “Now. I hope you’re not shy about what you eat, ‘cause guess what we’re having for dinner.”

Iorek had taken a small detour from the rest of the procession to oil the joints of his armour, but he’d brought back the dead seal that had contributed its blubber to the noble cause. The old bear had then promptly deposited the rest of the seal on Lee’s large sled, which he’d complained about to no end. Really, though, he was just glad to have his friend by his side.

Although, he probably could have done without the seal blubber all over his sled. He shuddered at the prospect of cleaning it up later.

She started to reply, but the appearance of Lord John Faa stopped her. Lee let out a triumphant cry when the fire started properly and set to fashioning a spit to cook the meat on. His attention was divided, however, partly focusing on the young girl carefully winding the hands of the truth-telling device and observing its readings carefully.

Lyra was telling Lord Faa about the defences of Bolvangar when she stopped and frowned at the alethiometer for a moment. “Lord Faa… It’s telling me something else. In the next valley there’s a village by the lake that’s being troubled by a ghost.”

The next valley, Lee knew, was not all that far off if she thought it was worth investigating. Not at all for an armoured bear. He eyed the seal meat and decided that he could leave it for long enough to call Iorek to the sledges.

When they returned, Lord Faa surprisingly asked to speak to him, while Lyra carefully made her way through the snow to Iorek.

“I don’t suppose you know this area?”

Lee frowned. He’d flown over this region once about two years ago, but he remembered it vividly. After the fiasco in Navy Odense and a few more skirmishes in the next year, Iorek had parted ways with Lee temporarily – something that had turned out to be far longer than Lee might have expected.

Still, the land in this region was familiar enough to him that he could estimate the distances as well as Iorek. “Yeah, actually. There happens to be a village over the ridge.”

“It seems far too dangerous to send the child to investigate, but she seems adamant on seeing what exactly might be the problem.”

Lee shrugged. “She seems like she can take care of herself.”

Right on cue, Lyra waved wildly as she ran towards them and shouted, “Lord Faa! If Iorek Byrnison takes me over to this village, we can find out whatever it is, and then catch the sledges up further on. He knows the route,” she continued, placing her argument with an expertise that Lee happened to recognize in the way he’d just spun an entire ball of yarn to the Sysselman the previous day.

“This is more impressive than that stunt you pulled yesterday,” Hester muttered from inside his coat. He chuckled and stroked the fur between her ears, not denying the complete fiasco Trollesund had been. It was a good argument, Lee thought, because Iorek was fast enough to cover the distance and back several times before dawn.

So he decided to step in. “Lord Faa,” he said, “if Iorek takes the little girl, she’ll be as safe as if she was here with us. All bears are true, but I’ve known Iorek for years, and nothing under the sky will make him break his word.”

He paused and watched his friend walk up silently behind Lyra. “Give him the charge to take care of her and he’ll do it, make no mistake. As for speed, he can lope for hours without tiring.”

Iorek growled softly in agreement.

“But why should not some men go?”

Lyra piped up, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world: “Well, they’d have to walk, because you couldn’t run a sledge over that ridge.”

Lee snorted and muttered, “I’ll have to get used to this, Hester,” as Lyra chattered on and completely convinced her audience to let her go. Still, he felt a niggling doubt that _something_ was going to happen, so he didn’t question the caution. Though it struck him as very odd to go ghost-hunting all of a sudden.

“Will there be soldiers?” Iorek asked Lyra. “We shall be far swifter if I do not need my armour.”

Lyra shook her head. “No, I’m certain of that.”

Her dæmon scurried into her hood, mouse-formed, and one of the gyptians gave her a piece of dried seal meat to chew on. She carefully hoisted herself onto Iorek’s back with Lee’s help, and they were off.

The feeling of dread only intensified as he watched his friend’s form blend into the snowy lands ahead of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the title a reference to a musical and the fact that this is about next week's episode?  
Absolutely


	8. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first days after the War are not so easy. Memories arise that are painful and necessary to confront to find oneself closer to moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER WARNING for The Amber Spyglass, Once Upon a Time in the North, and S1 Episode 6 of the TV series  
Set after Chapter 3  
Chapter title from In the Heights

The first few days after buying the house at the end of the lane were hard. Lyra, who’d lived all her life in a bustling university, was unused to the privacy that a home like this could offer. Lee, for all that he was used to solitude, making new acquaintances and a few close friends, was dreading the idea of settling down on land. This, he knew, was a bit unreasonable, since he was now the guardian of a child who had no family to turn to, the closest she had to a father figure.

And, he thought, he had no balloon.

Of course, he knew that this measure would be temporary at most – Lyra’s wanderlust was close enough to his own lifestyle that he had no doubt he could take her back to the Arctic in the future to reclaim his old life. He wasn’t quite sure what rooted him to a quaint old house in Oxford, but the idea of staying wasn’t as bad as it had seemed before he’d had to fight the Muscovites.

The first few days were incredibly strange, but soon enough they settled into a rhythm that became familiar to them as their past lifestyles. One day, Lee would tell her about Texas and his childhood there. He didn’t think his old friends would still be there, but perhaps he could take Lyra to visit the place. In the meantime, the two of them worked to build a new life in a town that was hopelessly familiar to Lyra.

It wasn’t a surprise to Lee that Lyra would occasionally have nightmares about the time she’d spent that had turned her world upside down and sent it swirling around its axis. However, the true extent of his horror had only been unveiled after one particularly distressing night.

Lyra had woken up screaming, and Lee had shot upright before regaining his bearings and hurrying into her room. Hester was in well before him, he couldn’t help the flip of his stomach as he considered the changed nature of their bond, which meant that he could separate from her as easily as Lyra and Pantalaimon could. Pan was curled into a tight ball next to Lyra’s head, and Lee could hear Hester softly trying to calm him down.

Lyra, meanwhile, had latched on to him as soon as he sat on the edge of her bed, and had promptly dissolved into sobs. This reaction was unexpected, despite the semi-regularity of nightmares that usually left her shaking with remembered fear but could be soothed away gently and quickly. He rubbed her back, rocking her gently and waiting for the tears to subside. Eventually, her spine-wracking cries receded into sniffles and she pulled away for a moment to wipe at her tear-stained cheeks.

“D’you want me to stay here, kid?” he asked, and she nodded.

He sensed that he could try his usual prompt to discuss her fear, rather than leave it buried, and tried the question: “Will you tell me what the dream was about?”

She huddled closer to him and nodded into the fabric of his shirt. He waited patiently, all the while listening to Hester’s continuous attempt to calm down the young pine-marten dæmon. Pantalaimon eventually hopped onto Lyra’s lap, with encouragements from Hester, and Lyra inhaled sharply.

“I dreamt of Bolvangar,” she half-whispered.

Lee nodded and frowned. The place sickened him well after he’d seen it crumble, and he didn’t blame her for dreaming about it. However, her level of distress seemed… off, somehow. He stayed silent, burning with curiosity and dread at what she might say next.

Lyra shuddered once. “I dreamt of the scientists. The doctors, the ones who actually-” here she stopped, and Lee was glad that Hester had pressed close to his side, for he knew well how being separated entirely from one’s dæmon was like, and he wouldn’t wish that hell on anyone. Knowing the future that lay ahead of them all, though, inevitable, was slightly comforting. He pushed away his scattered thoughts and focused entirely on Lyra’s recollection.

“They – I tried to escape, but then they caught me, and they had Pan, they were _touching_ him, and it felt _awful-_” her voice cracked, and she buried her face in his chest once more, her arms tightening around him.

Lee’s skin crawled at the mere mention of such a violation, a phantom hand at his throat where the gunman had grasped Hester in the grossest attempt at killing him he could have imagined. Hester’s ears twitched in sympathy and remembered revulsion of the sensation.

“Kid,” he whispered, voice choked, “I’m so sorry you had to feel that.”

He suspected from the way she stilled for a moment that she’d reasoned what had happened, and was thankful that she didn’t follow through with a question (one he’d answer truthfully, painful or not) just then.

The two of them sat in silence, and Lee felt Lyra go limp in his arms as she drifted into a hopefully peaceful sleep. He smiled softly and adjusted his hold on her carefully so that they both lay down, his arm wrapped protectively around her. In this safe bubble, in their new home, he finally let himself relax.


	9. When the Sun Goes Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyra visits the Botanical Garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all can thank LMM for this. I wasn't planning on it to happen, but then I remembered that the lines _And I'll think of you every night/At the same time"_ were inspired by Will and Lyra's fate in TAS. In the Heights is a treasure.  
As usual, SPOILER WARNING for The Amber Spyglass

The first time Lyra went to the Botanical Garden, she’d been all of seven years old. It had been a labyrinth of flora, and she’d gladly explored it with a few of the townies. Of course, Mrs. Londsdale had scolded her severely for running off without telling anyone, that evening after she returned to find half the staff at Jordan searching for her. She refrained from going there again, despite having enjoyed an entire afternoon sniffing the flowers and watching Pan buzz around with a few bees.

The first time she saw the Botanical Garden after the War had been, as promised, exactly one year since she and Will had parted ways. Lee didn’t know of her promise, but didn’t push for an explanation as to why she was subdued that day. He hardly even mentioned the date, going about his work as usual, if a little quieter himself. She observed Hester sticking closer to him than she normally would have, and didn’t mention it. There was no reason to bring it up.

When she slipped out at dusk, she’d left with enough of an explanation that Lee wouldn’t worry about her absence and safety if she stayed out late, but not enough that he would know where and why she was gone. The security guard at the Botanical Garden knew her from her little escapade years ago, and had seen her enough around town to let her in without question. She made for the secluded bench she’d seen when she’d explored it the first time, grateful for the privacy provided by the curtain of ivy.

She sat there for a while in silence, reminisced with Pan some moments from the time she’d spent with Will, and finally took a walk around the winding paths, idly admiring the flowers. Well after the sun had dipped below the horizon, when the clock chimed yet another hour, Lyra figured it was best to return home. She turned back to the bench and whispered, “I’ll be back next year.”

And so it continued every year on that same day. Lee never questioned her disappearances, knowing that by now she had some sort of a ritual regarding the date, but Lyra decided that she would tell him, after they returned from Bolvangar. They were visiting the garden anyway, and Lee was admiring some of the flowers – which he hadn’t seen in the harsh Arctic climate – when she told him about it. He’d listened patiently as she spoke of her promise to Will, and that this was where she came every year, and that she’d wanted to keep it private between the two of them until now.

Lee didn’t mention that it was impossible for her to know whether Will also kept up this tradition, but she hadn’t expected him to. Cynical as he could be sometimes, he wasn’t ever cruel. All he asked was, “Do you want to be alone?”

She hesitated. She’d come to appreciate the solitude during her visits, the way no one would talk to her at the bench except Pan, but she didn’t mind Lee’s presence there. She told him as much, though she asked to be alone at the bench. Lyra sighed and watched him stroll down one of the other paths, Pan right at her side.

“I miss him,” she whispered, unable to manage anything louder. A lump had formed in her throat. This wasn’t new, she normally experienced some levels of melancholy when she visited the garden, but it hadn’t hit her as much before as it did now. There was no question who she meant.

“I know,” Pan replied. Lyra let out a choked sob and covered her mouth with her hand, breathing shakily.

“I know we haven’t seen him in years, but – oh, _Pan –”_

“I know, Lyra,” he said again, clambering onto her shoulder. She wept silently and was again thankful for the privacy of the spot she’d chosen. After her grief had spent itself – for it was grief, even if Will wasn’t dead, because she had lost him to another world after all – she dried her eyes and stood.


	10. Dæmons to Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee and Lyra discuss death, dæmons, and what actually happens in the afterlife. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER WARNING for HDM (the whole series), The Amber Spyglass, and Once Upon a Time in the North  
Set vaguely around the time of chapter 8  
Chapter title from the HDM soundtrack

Lee knew that Hester was avoiding this conversation. There wasn’t much they opted not to share with each other – in fact, this had to be the only thing Lee knew that he wouldn’t ever talk about with Hester (something she hadn’t protested so far). This was less due to the fact that it was mostly impossible for humans to be separate from their dæmons, and more because of how in tune they were. There were no secrets between them.

Even _this_ didn’t really count as a secret. It was simply a topic of conversation to avoid.

At least, until Lyra had sat him down and urged him to talk to _her_. Lee had hesitated at first – it wasn’t something Lyra needed to know, she didn’t have to share this burden with him, he could deal with it himself – but Lyra shot down all his protests with ease. He sighed, and supposed that it was best to get this over with.

He was glad that Hester was not in the room with them – Pantalaimon had drawn her out with boundless energy only a minute ago. He hadn’t _quite_ gotten used to being able to separate from Hester without the expected pain. He’d had nightmares for days after hearing McConville’s confession to the _creative_ ways he’d murdered people in the past, and that was when he hadn’t felt sick remembering the hushed, mockingly confiding tone the bastard had used.

His dreams in the days following the skirmish had been filled with dread at falling prey to a similar scheme, or someone seeking revenge for the man’s death. Though McConville couldn’t have been a man: no human would dare to do something so heinous as _that_. Or so he’d thought until Bolvangar.

“It happened soon after I found John,” he started hesitantly, not meeting Lyra’s gaze. “We were trapped between a forest and the zeppelin – which was full of Magisterium soldiers, by the way – and I stayed back to hold ‘em off.”

“That was when you remembered Serafina’s flower?”

Lee shook his head. “No, honey, that came after. I’m a good shot, and Hester’s got a hell of an ear for things. But I was injured, it was only natural – I was facing off a bunch of them all by myself.”

_“Shame to die with only one bullet left.”_

The words echoed in his mind now, and he sighed. He hadn’t regretted his actions back in the gulch, but he’d absolutely hated what came after. He shook himself out of his reverie and continued.

“Well. You can probably guess what happened,” he said vaguely. Lyra was a smart kid, she was _more_ than capable of putting the pieces together. “You’re sure you want to know what happened next?”

Lyra nodded resolutely. Lee sighed, he’d expected this. “It isn’t pretty,” he warned, and continued before Lyra could comment. “You know how the world of the dead is. When I reached the place, it was awful. Crowded, everyone was shoulder-to-shoulder. There was hardly any room to breathe. The whole time, it felt… _empty_.”

Lyra frowned at this, but waited patiently as Lee searched for the right words.

“They tell us that dæmons are our souls, but they’re so much more than that. They’re part of our identities too, part of our hearts and bodies – hell, I don’t know how to describe this,” he conceded. “Dying – no. You remember those poor kids at Bolvangar, the ones who lost their dæmons?”

Lyra bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah. It en’t like that though, in the land of the dead. I remember, everyone knew who they were, who their _dæmons_ were.”

“It’s complicated,” Lee managed. “I’m getting there, kid. Those kids had lost a part of themselves, but they still weren’t dead. Their dæmons were disconnected from them, but they weren’t lost. I think that’s why people die when their dæmons do. You could live without being near your dæmon, but if they were dead…”

“You would be too,” Lyra finished softly. “You were aware in the afterlife because your bond with Hester wasn’t damaged, though you were gone.”

Lee nodded. “Yeah, that’s it.” It had been horrible, to say the least. Lee could feel something missing, like someone had cut off a limb, or – no, like someone had hollowed out his chest and taken his heart. He’d felt nothing, even though he’d ached for Hester. It hadn’t hurt, but he’d felt completely numb.

“I think that’s enough of an explanation today,” he sidestepped, and was surprised when Lyra graciously allowed it.

“Okay,” she said, and hesitated for a moment before wrapping her arms around him. “I asked the alethiometer how you were… revived, and… I still don’t know, but I’m glad you’re here.”

He returned the embrace and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’m really glad too, honey.”

And, yes, even if things seemed to be about to fall apart any minute, Lee thought as he watched Hester hop inside the room, he was glad he could have this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got slightly more meta than I thought it would - I was originally going to focus on how Lee felt right after he died, but then I started to think about how a dæmon affects one's life. I couldn't really think of a good comparison, but, including the events of TSC (uh, spoilers for TSC, by the way), there are a few things that we know about how human-dæmon bonds matter.
> 
> The first, more obvious idea - the personality of someone who is satisfied with their dæmon vs. someone who is dissatisfied would be significantly different
> 
> Second - those who've been intercised/separated/stayed with their dæmons all die when their dæmons turn to Dust. This was very interesting - given that some people are detached emotionally from their dæmons, it meant that they also had a literal connection to people's lives. Regardless of whether or not a person's emotional bond with their dæmon is intact, one's death affects the other.
> 
> So, uh. Make of that what you will, I guess?
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed!


	11. Soft Around the Edges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyra worries about forgetting Will and Roger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of an excuse to delve into Lee's backstory, because we know so little about his life in Texas. Granted, I still didn't go into too much detail, but it was interesting to think about why he decided to gamble on a balloon of all things before taking to flight. Things just tumbled into line after that.
> 
> SPOILER WARNING for The Amber Spyglass, and the HDM series (and books)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

It was a little nice to think that coming to Lee with her worries was Lyra’s first course of action, but he would have appreciated it more if she’d left it till well after three in the morning. He was too damn sleepy to really pay attention to much of what she had to way, or so he thought until he caught the expression on her face. Any hint of grogginess vanished, and Lee pushed himself upright automatically, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed onto the floor.

“Lyra?”

“I think I’m forgetting Will,” she whispered, sounding close to tears.

“You visited the Botanical Garden two days ago,” Lee pointed out, nonplussed. “I’m not sure…”

She shook her head, falling into the space next to him on the bed. He instinctively went to wrap a hand around her shoulders, but noticed Pan lying across them in time to drop the gesture. He was more awake now than any cup of coffee could have made him, or perhaps even the camomile Lyra had attempted to brew a few times for him. The gesture had been sweet, the tea itself, not so much.

“That’s when I started thinking about it,” she explained, wringing her hands. “I remember him, obviously – Roger too, but the details are… fading. I feel awful when I try to think of – of that look Roger got before doing something stupid, or the way Salcilia’s voice sounded, or the exact shade of Will’s eyes.”

As much as Lee was glad that he could be here to help her, he wished there had been a way to spare her this heartbreak and grief. Will may be alive still, but the way they were both separated from each other with no hope for communication probably made it as permanent as Roger’s death.

“I miss them so much,” Lyra muttered, swiping her tears away with her sleeve. “It feels like I’m betraying them, when I forget.”

“You love them,” Lee said gently. “That’s what’s important, all things considered. Roger was your best friend as a kid, and you were pretty close to Will too. You faced a lot of trials and ordeals together, that sort of thing doesn’t leave you unchanged – it almost always creates some kind of bond with the person you face them with.”

“Like you and Iorek.”

“Like us, yeah. I met him through sheer coincidence, but we’ve done a lot of things together since then. He’s my best friend,” Lee added with a shrug. Sure, he missed Iorek, but that wasn’t the point right now, especially considering he could visit him whenever he liked (and had time off to do so). “The same goes for you and Will; if nothing else, you’re both connected by the things you went through together.”

Lyra fell silent, thinking this through. Lee decided that it was best he addressed her other concern before she overthought things.

“As for forgetting… sometimes, the finer details of who you’re missing – who you’re _grieving_, get a little… _soft_, around the edges. You know who they are, what they mean to you, what you love about them, but they’re arrested in the moment you last saw them. But _you_ don’t stop that way, you keep growing and changing. You don’t love them any less, but…” Lee lets himself trail off, not sure of how to put it.

Fortunately, Lyra seems to understand.

“Does it ever get easier?”

The question is so silent that he nearly misses it.

“Hmm?”

“Missing them. _Grieving _them. Will it ever get easier?”

“Not really,” Lee admitted. “You just… get used to it, I suppose. Like I said, it becomes soft around the edges. Eventually, you stop feeling like you’ve been shot every time you think of them and their absence, and start to think of the good memories you shared with them.”

“Do _you_ miss anyone like that?”

Lee hesitated. “Yeah,” he said at last. “My mother. She died when I was seventeen, fresh out of school. One of the nicer ranchers in the area took me in, gave me a job.”

He slipped the old ring he wore on a chain from behind his collar.

“This was hers, you know,” he said, and Lyra nodded. “I thought I’d lost it when I was clearing out the house, but… sometimes things have strange ways of getting back to us.”

“Where did you find it?”

“Oh, John – John Parry returned it to me when I went looking for him. Said it had fulfilled its purpose in summoning me, or something. _Shamans_.”

Lyra snorted, and leaned into his side. Lee saw that Pan was now curled into her lap and wrapped her in a one-armed embrace.

“Thanks,” she said at last. “I didn’t mean to wake you at this time of night, but…”

“I don’t mind,” he said, with perfect honesty. “When I told you that you could talk to me about anything, I also meant you can bug me whenever you needed to. Not that you’re bugging me,” he added hastily, and Lyra smiled faintly. “I don’t mind if it’s in the middle of the day, or before sundown, or three in the morning. I’m just glad you trust me enough to talk to me about this.”

A long silence, then, “You’re a great dad,” Lyra mumbled.

He pressed a light kiss to his daughter’s temple. “Thanks, honey. Now, you should get some rest. D’you want to stay here, or go back to your own room?”

“Here.” She was already curling up under his covers, and he chuckled at the phantom memory of a twelve-year-old Lyra smothered in blankets next to him in a gyptian tent.

Lee slipped in beside her, and just like that night of long ago, drifted into a peaceful sleep.


	12. Lay a Strong Enough Foundation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reality of adoption sinks in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I *can* write stuff without angst!  
This one's a bit more raw than my usual drafts, but between moving and preparing for my first semester of university, I've been having a bit of a creative slump. I wanted to get something out in light of the new trailers that was not sad for a change (come yell at me about them at my [HDM blog](atexanaeronaut.tumblr.com)!)
> 
> All my knowledge of the legal process of adopting a child in the UK comes from [here](https://www.gov.uk/child-adoption), so apologies for any inaccuracies there!
> 
> Not sure when this happens in the timeline of the fic, but Lyra would probably be around 15 years old at this point
> 
> Just to be safe, though, I'm marking this down as SPOILERS FOR THE AMBER SPYGLASS.  
Title from Dear Theodosia (Hamilton).
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Lee was _not_ prepared to adopt his kid.

It sure sounded weird – and it _was_ – but it was the truth. He’d already become her legal guardian, because Lyra needed some stable adult in her life who actively cared for and was willing to look after her, and no one else (except maybe Ma Costa) was willing to take up that position. Lee hadn’t been about to ask the grieving woman to adopt Lyra as well – no doubt she’d have cared for the child wonderfully, but Lyra would have felt like an outsider intruding on something private all the time.

Given how subdued she’d already seemed after the War – or whatever that mess was – was over, Lee had been all too willing to step up immediately. It wasn’t any secret that he loved Lyra like his own, but the possibility of adopting her had always been a more abstract sort of concept.

He really should have predicted her to bring it up first, past the quick suggestion she’d made on the way to Oxford all those years ago. Lee had been too dazed to think about the reality of the situation, still getting used to being alive, corporeal, and having Hester at his side, but that wasn’t to say that he hadn’t been sincere.

He'd still love to adopt Lyra officially. But that doesn’t stop him from being so damn nervous about it.

“Nothing has to change unless you’d like it to,” he assured her when she’d approached him, worried about what might change once the adoption was made legal.

Lyra simply looked thoughtful and left to wash the dishes with a single nod. Her willingness to do some chores had been more telling than anything else at the time – she got a bit quiet sometimes, and thoughtful, but that wasn’t too surprising considering everything she’d been through and the fact that she was still growing.

“Lyra, we don’t have to sign the papers until you’re absolutely sure,” he stressed.

“I want to, though,” she replied, scrubbing away at her plate. Pantalaimon twitched a bit, betraying her agitation. “I just – I don’t know _why_ – ugh.”

Despite his own nerves, Lee chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think that’ll go away until it’s done. I’m serious, though. I’d love to be your father, but if that isn’t something you’re ready for yet, I’d be happy enough to be your guardian.”

Lyra mumbled something under her breath, but it was lost amidst Lee’s swearing when he stumbled and stubbed his toe (he’d stopped trying to censor himself around the time she turned fourteen, when he realised that her vocabulary had long since surpassed his own and could rival any veteran sailor’s).

“Sorry, I kind of missed that,” he managed at last, wincing as he tried wiggling the injured toe. Lyra raised a brow at his state and wordlessly handed him the glass of water he’d been making his way over for.

A beat, then: “You already are. My dad, I mean,” she added, off his look of confusion. “Have been since. After. I don’t know why I’m nervous, we’re just making the adoption legal.”

Lee blinked and couldn’t help but grin at the words, his heart filling with warmth. It was as if all his nerves had vanished the moment she uttered those words – sure, the fact that making it legal made the commitment real in a tangible sort of way was still daunting, but it didn’t hold a candle to the reality of the situation. This was his kid he was adopting, the girl he’d thought of as his daughter since long before she’d chosen to become his ward, and now she’d actually, legally, _properly_ be his daughter.

“You’ve always been my kid too. I just wanted to make sure you’re not rushing into this,” he replied, lightly squeezing her shoulder before reaching over to grab the dishcloth. “I’ll dry the dishes, you should be doing your homework or playing in the snow, or whatever you kids do.”

Lyra wrinkled her nose. “But it’s _maths_,” she complained. “And I’m not _rushing._ I thought it through for weeks.”

Lee frowned at her. “Just weeks?”

She huffed a bit. “You know what I mean.”

And he did, so he didn’t push. To be honest, he hadn’t really considered the reality of this outcome until Mr. Bailey had mentioned the legal procedures he’d have to go through in order to finalise the adoption.

“I’ll run down to the courthouse on Monday and apply for their order, since you’re sure.” He waited for a verbal response, and was gratified with her affirmation. Lee ruffled her hair a bit and chuckled when she scowled at him.

“Now that that’s settled, I thought you said something about _maths_?”

“You said I could play in the snow,” Lyra protested. Lee wasn’t about to call her out on how she’d said that she was ‘too old to be frolicking about’ only days ago, but he _did_ point out that she’d been the one to bring up her homework.

“Sure, Dad,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she bounded up the stairs to her study. His heart almost skipped a beat but he kept his reaction neutral, almost certain that she hadn’t even realised the change in address. He was so used to her using his first name, like most others he knew, and he hadn’t even thought about this change.

He liked the sound of it, though. Lyra was his kid, and soon enough, he’d be her _dad_.

And damn it all if he wouldn’t be the best father she knew.


End file.
